[Round 1] Teetering Tower - Chance VS king daphnes

Spring Tournament 2009, Round One - Teetering Tower [Chance VS king daphnes ]

As the battle progresses, just remember that each fight will go on for about 25-30 posts, the character that you choose for this first round must be the character you use for the entire duration of the tournament, and that Councilors characters (for example, in this thread, my character) will act as a referee for this thread and maintain balance. Try to keep posts at around 500 words max, and avoid controlling your opponent's character. With all that said, have at it and have fun!

IC:

There are some who saw skyscrapers are the pinnacles of human existence. As humans became more populous people began to run out of reasonable places to live. So instead of expanding outwards they moved up into the heavens, ignoring the winds the gravity and the physics involved humans took to the skies. Looking at a skyline like New York City with it’s many points going straight up is a wonder, looking up at a great metal beast is like staring at the face of God. So immense, so huge and indestructible it becomes almost unfathomable. Yet each tower was a product of man, straight and angular as if to challenge the creativity of the God who created mountains. Though like most things man builds many are doomed.

This one in particular was a beacon of a bygone age, a classic twenties skyscraper of cement and metal. Standing fifty stories above the ground it barely budged as high winds pounded against it. Most of the inside’s where stripped down to it’s basic structure of concrete floor and metal beams. Some walls where to risky however and as the team was taking apart the building they realized something. Due to the nature of the building, it was impossible to take apart without causing the whole damn thing to collapse. Discretion on the side of virtue they decided to quarantine the area and implode the thing, safer, costs less, though some environmental groups where sure to complain about the plums of dust it would cause. Alls well that ends well, the worker would get to destroy a building and piss of some liberal; best of both worlds.

Kaze flew quietly beside the roof of the skyscraper, which was still completely in tact. His blond hair dim in the rising sun Kaze waited patiently for the helicopter to arrive. Today was the day the implosion was to happen, and it was by no means of coincidence that this was the day he chose. Not entirely sure about how he got this job, nor happy about I, he at least wanted it to be as interesting as possible. Kaze’s cape blew widely as the ‘copter blew over his head, bringing the combatants ripe and ready for Kaze’s bemusement.

OoC:

Dybia stood, looking over the edge of the helicopters open door. He looked down at the worn down looking building below him. The place had been abandoned and that was easy to tell just from the roof. It was littered with collected garbage from the many birds that had been allowed to stay there since no one cleaned this place at all anymore. The trash on the roof seemed to blow around to each side as the winds shifted back and forth.

Dybia was dressed slightly different for today. Instead of his usual khaki jacket, he wore a longer white coat. It looked almost like a doctor's coat. He wore his blade Enola in a leather sheath strapped to his back, rather than the way he usually wore it clasped to his belt.

He also had a bit more packed into the pouches of his belt. There a few special items, a few sprays in case of major cuts, bandages packed for quick self treatment, and a scalpel tucked in the back pocket. He had no idea what to expect in this strange place he'd been pulled to. This was why he packed extra things with him.

Dybia had simply been snatched up from his training and told to fight this person he'd never met before. He barely had any time to snatch up his things. He'd chosen to wear his doctor's coat just for something lighter. It was more likely to tear, rather than snag. Underneath that though, his outfit was the same. A black shirt with no sleeves and a pair of blue jeans was what he wore underneath the coat.

He kept examining the building as the helicopter drew closer. He could see a lot of the structure seemed almost skeletal and bare. He looked out to the side and saw a man floating out past the edge of the building. He could hardly make out the man's blond hair, and could mostly see his flowing cloak.

Dybia looked over to the roof and saw that the helicopter was nearly right over it. Dybia felt the wind blowing towards the roof, so he decided to do something.

"Well, sometimes you got to go for style points!" He said, barely discernible to anyone else in the helicopter over the noise of it running.

Dybia powered his body up as he lept off the edge of the helicopter towards the building. As he hit the roof the leg he stuck out to land on crushed into the surface to the point where he had to take a moment to pull it out. Dybia looked around for the man he saw flying in.

"Hello?" Dybia said not being able to spot him.

As his opponent leaped from the chopper, Chance wondered if the man was trying to scare/intimidate him, or if the brief adrenaline rush was something he did to prepare himself for every fight. His extremely sensitive ears had picked up the man's muttering about style points, which had been a welcome, albeit brief, break from the monotonous thrum of the helicopter's main rotors. Even with the noise-cancelling headphones, Chance could still hear the racket around him.

As the helicopter began it’s descent, Chance contemplated the past few days, and what had brought him here to this dilapidated skyscraper in New York. A prestigious "consultant" had wanted an enormous amount of cash for his services, more than Chance had available at the moment. Unwilling to liquidate any of his market investments, Chance had looked for other alternatives, and that was how he'd discovered the tournament. The cash prize for the tournament winner was substantial enough for him to pay the consultant and have plenty left for himself.

Chance had barely made the registration deadline, and even then his contact had had to put in a good word for him. Luckily, he'd been allowed to participate, though he'd had to leave immediately after receiving the news - he'd been in Sydney, on business. Two days ago, he'd caught flight 815 on Oceanic, from Sydney to LA, and then had jumped flights to connect into New York. He didn't have anything with him but a few changes of clothes, which was fine. Chance didn't need any weapons - he was a weapon.

For this particular battle, Chance had chosen to wear a completely black outfit, mostly to contrast with his skin. He hoped the contrast would draw attention to his unusually pale skin, and perhaps to his eyes, which were currently a luminescent blue (He'd fed in Australia - kangaroo was surprisingly satisfying.). Chance's simple ensemble consisted of a sleeveless Under Armour top, a pair of drawstring sweatpants, and a pair of Nike Air Bakin's.

As he calmly stepped from the chopper, Chance removed his headphones and surveyed the locale. Judging from the roof, the building hadn't been used in over a decade. The industrial heating/cooling units seemed to be solid rust, and there was no door on the stairwell that led to the heart of the building. From inside, Chance could hear the gentle creaking of rusty metal as the building swayed, ever so slightly, with the wind, and the echoed effect of the sounds also led him to believe that the building had few, if any, interior walls remaining. Additionally, the indentation in the roof left by his opponent's landing probably meant that most of the flooring in the building wasn't very solid. Overall, an excellent place to fight.

Chance crossed his arms and remained motionless as the chopper took off, and as his opponent looked around for their referee. Chance knew that the ref was close, and the fight was about to begin. "Let them come," he thought. "I'm ready."

Dybia kept looking around the roof for the man that would essentially be the referee for his fight. He had lost sight of the man when he jumped from the helicopter. I guess he's the watch and wait type of guy, Dybia thought to himself. He looked over to the other man who had been on the helicopter with him, who would be his opponent. He saw no visible weapons in his possession, so Dybia felt safe assuming this man would use either hand to hand or some kind of magic.

Dybia was no fool though, and he knew not to judge the way someone fought just from surface values. Any fighter in this tournament could be a wild card. For all he knew, the man here could use some type of summoning to bring out a weapon. They could have some type of telekinesis, or some other weird power.

The two fighters seemed to contrast each other's dress. The man Dybia saw wore nothing but black. While Dybia covered himself in a long white coat. It gave a nice feel to things in Dybia's mind. It made things seem simpler. White vs black. It was that simple to him.

"Well, guess there's no reason to wait," Dybia said, "Ready your self then."

Dybia took a simple fighting stance with his hands ready and waited a moment. He'd decided to take this fight slow and use his basic fighting style, and just use his fists for a bit. He stood there for a moment, his short hair shifting around in the wind, waiting for his opponent to take some kind of stance.

"And try not to die" ,He barked, waiting for his opponent to make a move.

"Try not to die? Heh," thought Chance. That was ironic - he'd been dead for a long time now, probably longer than his opponent had been alive, judging by the man's appearance. As for losing, well, Chance could count on one hand the number of fights he'd lost in the last century. Humans were rarely, if ever, a challenge, and he had little reason to fight with anyone of a more mystical nature.

It was lucky for his challenger that Chance didn't like to kill. Sometimes he would simply intimidate his opponents. Typically, though, Chance would have to knock his them out, or, if that wouldn't work, he'd disable them. Usually that meant breaking arms or legs, though sometimes the pain from a broken finger or two was enough.

Chance analyzed his opponent's stance and decided on his first attack, all in a split second. The man was clearly confident in his fighting ability, but it was just as clear that he had no idea what he was up against. Chance decided to attack from behind his opponent, and, just in case, he also decided to wait for his opponent to blink - he couldn't react to what he couldn't see. Who knew, maybe the guy had superhuman vision AND reflexes. Best to play it safe.

His opponent blinked, and Chance was behind him. "You amuse me," he said, as he brought his fists down on the man's shoulders, slamming him through the floor and into the building.

Dybia felt the full force come down on him from the man's blow. He felt the steel bottoms of his boots smash through two floors, but Dybia was quick even after the hit to come up with a response. The moment he hit a floor he did not smash through, he crouched as he landed and bounded back upwards in less than a second.

With his body still charged up from before, he was able to leap straight back up through the whole he just fell through. He breached the top floor, once more feeling the wind blowing across the roof. He held one hand out for a massive upper-cut.

The metal clad fist struck the dark clad man's chin, and gave a nice crack as it collided. Dybia barely had a split second as he got his foot to the edge of the hole just in time to staticly grab it with his foot. His mind was racing around trying to maintain the hold to the edge, and he was able to roll off to the side.

This was it. That was the example of this man's power that Dybia wanted. He hoped it stopped there, but he wasn't going to give anything special away just yet. His electric attacks could wait. If strength and speed was was he had to worry about, well, he would just meet it with his own.

"You, it's hard to tell if you're underestimating me or just being an ass," Dybia said looking at the man who didn't seem to be phased past the moment his punch made contact.

"Can't I be both?" Chance asked tauntingly, as his antagonist climbed to his feet. Chance really DID find his opponent amusing - his style, and now his combat banter were over the top, as if he were compensating for something. Judging by his foe's general body language, and by the blow Chance had just received, the guy wasn't compensating for his battle ability. Stroking his chin, Chance wondered if the man had a girlfriend/wife.

The blow had been a pretty direct hit to the chin. Chance had heard his opponent jump almost instantaneously after hitting the floor two stories below. Chance had decided to wait at the edge of the hole he'd created with his opponent, assuming that a counter-attack was coming. It was a gamble - his opponent could have taken the floor out from under him, or he could have unleashed some sort of specialty attack. Fortunately, Chance had been right, and the uppercut had found its mark.

Two things had surprised Chance about the hit. First, his opponent still packed a decent punch, even after a two floor vertical jump. This guy was not a normal human, if he was human at all. Second, it hadn't directly been his assailant’s fist that had struck him - his opponent was now wearing some sort of metal gauntlets. For a split second Chance wondered how the man had managed to put the things on, but then he dismissed the thought as irrelevant.

"What's your name?" Chance asked. He was going to let his opponent have the next attack - he knew he was on a fairly equal footing with his opponent when it came to speed. First, though, he wanted to learn a little more about his opponent.

OOC: How long does the first round last?

"The name's Dybia, Don't suppose it'd be rude of me to ask the same?" ,Dybia said loosening up a bit.

This man was hiding something. Somehow Dybia knew that he was. He seemed a little too cool and collective, seeing that his speed could be matched. Dybia decided to go a bit slow. If the man had questions, he could give answers. For now.

"Dybia? What kind of name is that? Wait, you're not French, are you?" Chance asked sarcastically. Then tauntingly, "If so, shouldn't you have given up already?"

The taunt wasn't directly antagonistic, but Chance enjoyed anything that could be considered a personal insult AND made fun of the French at the same time. It was a two-for-one deal that he couldn't pass up, like a shopaholic at an outlet store on the Friday after Thanksgiving. The banter wasn;t so much about the insults and info that was exchanged, rather, Chance wanted to see how his opponent would react. Chance wanted more insight into his opponent's psyche.

"My name is Chance, and, out of curiosity, what WOULD you do if I DID consider it rude of you to ask my name?"

"Well, we're in a fight Chance, what would you expect me to do?" Dybia said taking a very slow, relaxed passe towards this man, "I'd beat the hell out of you until you told me. I'd at least like to know the name of the man I would beat."

Dybia stopped ten feet short of the man. His coat was flowing behind him with the wind. Dybia took a long look at the hole he had just came back through.

"I'm sure you would have done the same, would you not?"